Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“Alright, Lipton,” I tell him, cutting him short before he starts telling me a bunch of stuff I don’t need to know. I know where Jasmine is. He’s kept an eye on her, and now he can go.
“I’ll take it from here,” I say aloud, not meaning it for anyone’s ears but my own as I stride toward the entrance.
I spot Jasmine in an instant. That strawberry blond ponytail of hers shines in the foyer lights. Those hips and ass from behind look better every time I see them.
The perfect view from behind was broken only by someone walking in front of me—toward me with a look of what I guess I’d call terror on his face.
“You must be the janitor?” I ask him, cocking a brow but shifting my eyes from his to see Jasmine again.
She’s talking with her hands along with her mouth, and I’m sure she’s trying to find out something. A private hospital means people don’t just walk in off the street and look around.
“I didn’t say anything, Mr. Jones. She must’ve followed me,” the janitor says in an almost pleading tone.
I feel my head shaking, but it’s not in a bad way.
“I think everyone’s done a great job,” I assure him, clapping his shoulder and moving straight past him. I had no idea people thought I was such an ogre.
I never mentioned anything about a secrecy clause. I just asked them to go buy some flowers and drop them off here—something I might make a regular thing if it’s been a hit.
Zoning in on Jasmine like a laser beam, I know this is the time to do it right. To get her and me out of here to someplace we can do more than just talk if she’s up for it.
I move closer behind her. I shift my crazy smile to a more professional one as the staff behind the counter recognizes me. Jasmine follows their eyes, turning her head and then her whole body when she sees it’s me.
“Jasmine…,” I rasp. It’s the only thing on my mind, and the only word I want to hear right now.
Once she recovers from her momentary shock at seeing me, I can tell she’s not impressed. It seems out of character for her, but she looks furious.
Whatever she was talking about just now looks to have been replaced with something more serious. Her eyes narrow, and she crimps her lip.
My instinct is to find out who or what’s upset her and then have a quiet word with them, but there’s something in her look that tells me it’s me she’s angry with.
“You…,” she says in an accusing tone, taking a firm step closer and looking right up at me. I can see she’s not faking being angry right now.
I should be feeling my smile fall, but damn… if she isn’t the sexiest thing alive when she’s angry. If I didn’t love her smile so much, I know she could be this mad at me and I’d still be crazy about her.
She seems to be waiting for me to say something, narrowing her eyes and trying to seethe with rage. All I’m broadcasting is how glad I am to see her again.
“Hi,” I finally manage to get out from between smiling and feasting my eyes on her curves.
It seems to disarm her rage, though, and her shoulders suddenly slump. Her lower lip quivers, and the look in her eyes asks more questions than I could answer in a hospital foyer.
“It’s all right. She’s my florist,” I call over to the staff, who are shifting nervously behind the glass like worried lab rats.
“You…,” Jasmine says again, all the fire gone from her voice as I move closer, slipping my hand under her elbow.
“Can we go someplace and talk?” I hear myself ask, but my body’s already guiding her outside, past the curious eyes and out into the open. Right where my feelings for her belong.
“You sent people to buy all those flowers?” she asks, struggling not to sound emotional.
I nod, but I’m not sure why that’s such a bad thing. “You are a florist, right?” I ask, unable to stop my smile from creeping back in.
“I thought you might like the extra business,” I add, which is part of why I did it, too, but it doesn’t have the effect I thought it might have. Most people would be glad to have extra sales, and Jasmine looks like she’s about to get sick from hurt. I really don’t understand her anger.
“And I was doing such a bad job of… well… I…,” I stammer.
I feel like a living example of why I had to send all those people to her store. Trying to explain myself but knowing I’m just opening my big mouth wider by the second so I can put my foot in it again.